Hide-and-Seek
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: Marlee forces moody (and little) Eadlyn, Ahren, Kile, and Josie one day in their childhoods to play a game to kill time before a Report broadcast. Josie can't count for hide-and-seek, Kile hides in an obvious spot, and of course Eadlyn and Ahren get lost with a map and flashlight looking for safe rooms in the palace. A panic-stricken parent-driven search ensues. Pre-Heir.


_**Soli Deo gloria**_

 **DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own The Heir OR The Selection.  
**

 **In other news, it has been _four years_ since I published my first story on this site. DANG. **

**Here's a little story regarding the childhood of many of the main characters in The Heir. :)**

Eadlyn knew when she became queen she would have to be calm, cool, and collected. She'd have to be a monarch brimming with decorum and politeness, curtseying and receiving such; she'd be acting as a representative and leader of Illéa, a nation needing all the allies she could possibly gain from having such an appearance. Right now at the age of eight she was gaining a steady stream of training concerning making her such a queen as this.

Being subjected to tolerating the annoying antics of Josie Woodwork was _intensive_ training.

All that cloudy Friday morning Eadlyn'd suppressed eye-rolls at Josie while Miss Marlee taught her how to pick stitch in the Women's Room. At luncheon Eadlyn sat next to her and bent her spoon with suppressed rage when Josie flung food everywhere because of her talking, open mouth. No little anger was repressed against Kile, who sat across from Josie and avoided the goings-on by being sucked into a book. When asked by Eadlyn to please 'calm down his sister', he retorted drily "I'm older. You can't tell me what to do, Your Highness."

Eadlyn narrowly escaped Josie and her bouncy rambles by sneaking into her father's conference and sitting respectfully next to him until four. Dad kicked her out then, saying that an eight-year-old shouldn't be attending board meetings, and she had to set back her shoulders and remind herself to breathe in deeply when Josie came skipping rope down the halls and knocked into her, couldn't care to apologize before skipping away, and sang off-key. And loudly.

Now Eadlyn stood against a wall with folded arms and breathed in through her nose with flared nostrils. She'd been pulled away from a lovely sketch revolving around purples and its different shades and depths to stand around the studio until the _Report_ started. She already wore her grey dress with a ruffle tutu down to her knees, and her brown hair was in a long, elegant braid tied up on her head. Her eyes ate up everything from her spot. She hoped that no one would find her there, lest she be made to interact with those _infuriating_ Woodworks.

The _Report_ set was busy enough that no one _did_ pay her any mind. Miss Marlee took a much-needed wet comb to her son's rat nest of a haircut. He grunted and took on a sour face as he tried in vain to make progress on his stupid building book. Josie, five-years-old, with absolutely no tact, sense of personal space, or discipline, hopped around the struggling mother and son, singing a made-up song about her being a princess. Next to them was Mom in a rocking chair, simultaneously feeding baby Osten, who was young enough to eat his fingers and look adorable while doing so but old enough to not have the entire media focus being on his addition to the royal family, and getting her hair done by Miss Mary. Beyond her was Kaden bouncing a ball and taking in the entire set with a serious, curious face.

Dad mouthed lines off the teleprompter and gestured with wide hand motions. Gavril watched him with a nodding head, interested. Meanwhile the cameras were being checked over, makeup was applied to cheeks, and papers were thumbed by many magistrates.

"Eadlyn, you look like you're plotting murder over here." Ahren, resident twin, second born of the Royal Highnesses Maxon and America, and the kid who found humor in things, said. He stood next to Eadlyn, looking curiously at his twin.

The twins never could look more different. From his amused, exuberant blonde-haired face, every inch his father with the thoughtfulness of his mother, to her cool, pointed face screaming Queen Amberly. Their moods were quite the opposites as well.

"I may be, if it wouldn't get me taken off my future throne," Eadlyn sighed. She blew a raspberry and looked at the ground, tapping her shoes. "It's still fifteen minutes to camera and I can't wait for this to be over."

"Me either. I'm starving for some dinner right now," Ahren said.

Eadlyn thought how different boys were from girls. Besides the obvious reasons she'd learned when regarding the throne, she was avoiding a certain brat of a neighbor and Ahren was starving. Typical.

"Josie was just worse than usual today," Eadlyn confessed quickly, in explanation for her sour mood to her twin.

"I know. I could tell. Everyone makes sure to stay clear of you when she is," Ahren said.

His joke should've irritated Eadlyn, but instead she quirked a smile, amused. "I like Miss Marlee and Mr. Carter all right, but sometimes I could kick out their kids without a single regret."

"Not even a _shred_ of guilt?" Ahren tempted.

"None whatsoever. When I am queen, and before I am queen, I will execute orders with full conviction," Eadlyn relayed coolly.

"At least you're not executing _them_ , right?" Ahren said.

"Tempting," Eadlyn mused.

"Ah ah. Your future throne, Eady," Ahren reminded her.

"Damn. You're right," Eadlyn said, sighing.

"Don't say that around here. Miss Marlee will be on you for cursing," Ahren reminded her. He was always there to keep her in check in regards to how she was perceived by other people. In turn, she added the touch of reality to his otherwise idealistic world.

"And Mom won't," Eadlyn smirked.

The moment she allowed herself to relax around the amused personality of her twin, was of course the moment she was side-attacked by the energetic Josie Woodwork. "Oohhhh, can I try on your crown, Eady?" Josie squealed.

"Eadlyn, Josie," Eadlyn said in a specially restrained voice, tailor-made for interacting with Josie Woodwork, who'd test the patience of a saint.

"I wanna try on your tiara!" Josie gushed, jumping up and down so that her skirt betrayed the sight of her bloomers to any and all those on set.

"Not right now, Josie. You'll mess up my hair if we take it off now." Eadlyn was adamant, but then, so was Josie. The five-year-old had less reserves than the princess and also had no problem in stretching her fat white arms in earnest to grab that tiara straight off Eadlyn's scalp. Eadlyn was at first hesitant to hold her hands up in defense of her possession, but her jaw tightened and her eye took on the fierceness of rage inherited from her father when Josie's little manicured fingernails came out in intention of acting like claws. Eadlyn then made to fight off that petulant child like an enraged cat and earned pins springing out of her brown hair for her trouble. Her hair hung in shambles around her as Josie bounced back, triumphant, with the tiara grasped in her tiny fingers. "I'm the princess now!" she said, once she'd crowned her head and smiled a toothless grin.

Eadlyn kicked off her silvery heeled shoes and did the un-princess-like thing, which made Silvia nearly have a heart attack: that princess chased that Woodwork in circles all over that camera set. They skipped over wires, slid around cameramen, and nearly upset the royal thrones.

Production was called to a halt by Silvia, everyone stood still, and Captain Leger caught both tykes with a hand to each arm. He took them to their mothers, one giggly child and the other a willful, sullen girl.

America stood up from her chair and put orange-haired Osten on her hip as she knelt in front of Eadlyn. "Eadlyn, you can't chase Josie around the _Report_ set. It's _dangerous_. And time-consuming," with an especial wink to the vexed Silvia.

"I can, I just shouldn't," muttered Eadlyn. She felt very unrepentant, seeing as Josie Woodwork, the bane of everyone's but particularly her existence, still had _her_ royal tiara on her pretty blonde curls.

"Point made. But Eadlyn, you can't do that. It isn't the princess thing to do," America explained.

"That's rich, coming from you," Aspen laughed.

America gave him a suppressed grin and said sternly, "Do not critic your superiors, Captain Leger." Now turning from Eadlyn, who folded her arms and tilted her chin up as she scowled at Josie, she said, "Is Josie okay, Marlee?"

"Josie is perfectly fine. What's more, she's perfectly ready to apologize for scampering off with the future queen's crown." Eadlyn felt the unexpected smugness coming from having Miss Marlee, an adult, Mom's friend, and Josie's mother, on her side, and what's more, offering a little disciplinary action to her wild child.

Miss Marlee raised her eyebrows at Josie, and the little girl scowled as she wrenched her crown off her head. It took some effort, as those darling kinky curls had tangled like vines all over the shiny silver. Josie ended up whining as Miss Marlee hurried to kneel and detangle her daughter. Eadlyn tapped her foot and sighed, wishing for calls to places for the _Report_ would happen _now_.

"Give Eadlyn her crown back, Josie," Miss Marlee commanded in a gentle, leading voice.

Josie, none-too-pleased, proffered it like it was poisonous. "Take it back, Your Highness," she sneered.

Eadlyn liked to think that if her mom and Miss Marlee weren't such good friends, that her mother would command Josie to speak with a more respectful tone. Instead, she sealed her lips together and Mom pinned the crown haphazardly onto her brown head. It was a hard task, seeing as Osten's fat body was held up with one hand, and America wasn't naturally inclined to help with applying accessories to anyone anymore. Fortunately Miss Mary popped out of the woodwork and took over the job with ease, to everyone's relief.

Ahren came panting over to Eadlyn, inquiring, "Are you all right?" just as Kile looked up from his book and complained, "Is this all over yet?" Eadlyn nodded affirmation to relieve her twin and threw a glare at Kile; to her surprise, it was slightly more sympathetic than it was annoyed at his complaining.

"Now, we still have a few minutes until the _Report_ starts," said Miss Marlee.

America sighed as she juggled and tossed a fussing Osten from one arm to the other. "What are we supposed to do with the four of them until then?" she said, gesturing to the four children in varying moods: Ahren, relieved, Kile, annoyed, Eadlyn, impatient, Josie, a step away from angry tears.

"We . . . could set the husbands on them," Miss Marlee suggested. It was a well-founded suggestion, for Carter Woodwork and Maxon Schreave were a step away from being kids themselves. They could render themselves from serious men protecting their country to romping around the living room playing horsie and piggyback with their little kids. They could even rope off-duty Captain Leger into the mix: he was a particular favorite with the kids, like the playful uncle that Kota didn't make himself.

But then Miss Marlee remembered something and sighed. "Carter's on a stat meeting, going over a report of last week's rounds, and won't be here until last minute."

America looked around and caught sight of Maxon in deep discussion with one of the advisers. He ran a hand through his sweaty dirty blond hair and made America turn back, saying, "Maxon's out for the count."

"Anddddd Aspen just disappeared." Miss Marlee sighed.

"This is going to sound like One-problems, but I'd rather neither of us play with them. We just got our makeup and hair done," America admitted, almost ashamed of herself for having it as a valid reason to not engage in wearisome amusing play with her favorite kids.

"One-world problems indeed!" Miss Marlee giggled.

The four kids looked up at their mom with unsympathetic faces.

"Why don't the four of them just amuse themselves? That's what I did with Kenna, Kota, and May," America suggested.

"Good idea, America," Miss Marlee decided, to the kids' horror.

"I'm always full of them," America joked.

Eadlyn could testify, alongside her father, as that not being the truth _at all_.

She remained sullenly silent as Miss Marlee waved them away with her fingers so that they were in a silently rebellious group a few good yards away.

"I don't want to play a game with any of you," Kile said bluntly.

"Well, I'm up for something that we all like," Ahren said good-naturedly.

Eadlyn and Kile threw him a shared same look.

"We just played tag and it was _soooo_ much fun!" Josie said, giggling. She seemed quite recovered. However, Eadlyn wasn't. And her mind, which she'd inherited from her mother, quickly thought up a magical, quick-fix solution to their stupid problem.

"Let's play hide-and-seek," Eadlyn suggested. She turned to Josie. "You seek while we three hide." It was an excellent plan: Josie would never find them, stupid as she was. Eadlyn also knew that Kile would be dragging his feet to come back into _her_ Royal Annoyance's presence again, so his hiding would be good. It would suffice beyond what they needed to pass the time until the cameras were rolling.

 _"Fine"_ was the sighed response of Kile.

"Let's just stay in this wing of the castle, though. They'll call us back soon," Ahren advised. This was agreed to and Josie giggled as she turned her back to them. She counted with closed eyes hidden behind her hands. "One, two, three, five, eight, nine. . ."

Thankfully Kile ran in an opposite direction from Ahren and Eadlyn. These two ran to the left and him to the right. Ahren opened the exiting door for his sister and the two escaped with no notice from any of the busy grownups.

"Where should we hide, Eady?" Ahren asked eagerly. Eadlyn was always the first to be turned to for leadership.

Eadlyn spied a guard station outside of the TV studio and motioned to it. They sped to it and both peered carefully through a cracked-open door. The guard station had a drinking fountain and comfortable chairs, and then a cabinet full of guns and weapons. Walkie-talkies and maps of exits of the entire castle were on the wall. There were several guard stations posted all over the palace, where guards gathered their equipment from for the beginning of each shift. They were also break-places and a container of resources in case of urgent emergency.

"Look at these maps," said Ahren, gazing at them with amazement. Without thinking of consequences, he took a map down with wondering, studying eyes.

Eadlyn, not much interested in the interior of her huge home, went investigating the rest of the station. None of the guards on- or off-duty were here, so she felt no real need to hurry in case they came back. Their presence was gone, and so she pretended they couldn't come stumbling in on them at any time. She poked through the walkie-talkies, sat on the chairs, and then spied with her little grey eye a trunk. Unlocked, it opened willingly under her hands. Her small hands brought from it maps showing a thread of catacomb-like rooms running through the interior of the palace. Her eyes went wide; "Ahren, come here," she demanded urgently.

Ahren shone an illuminating light on their subject by way of a flashlight. "What is this?" he asked, amazed. He knelt beside her and held a side of the big map. It showed the interiors of the walls of the many stories of the palace and secret doors located for emergencies at various points.

At Ahren's question, a memory came to the forefront of Eadlyn's mind; three-years-old and yelling from outside an unfamiliar door; her mother's arms around her, Dad pacing the floor, and the sounds of shots. Last year she'd also heard her parents discussing that event: it was a rebel attack, one of the last ones on the palace. She pointed to one of the secret doors and said, "Remember how Mom and Dad used to say there were rebels here?"

Ahren nodded. "They had safe rooms to take people in the palace when the rebels attacked here. These must be the doors to those rooms," Eadlyn said.

Ahren pointed to a door a few yards away from the guard-station. "There's one right there."

Eadlyn made a choice; standing up, rolling up the map into a scroll and sticking it under her arm, she said firmly, "Let's hide in there."

"Are you sure?" Ahren asked, curious. He stood up as well, though.

Eadlyn smirked. "Josie will _never_ find us there."

The twins peeked out the door, but found no guard to stare like a disappointed parent down at them. So they snuck out, bounding down the hall when they heard Josie say, "One-hundred! Ready or not, I'm going to GET you!"

"It hasn't been one-hundred beats yet, has it?" Ahren said knowingly, shining his flashlight at the knob Eadlyn jiggled.

"No. Josie can't count to save her life, though." Eadlyn huffed as she launched her weight against the door for the last UMPH! she needed to get it open. "Maybe if she joined us for a school lesson, she could pick up something basic." But her focus quickly shifted from Josie Woodwork and her five-year-old ignorance to gaze, mouth agape, down a set of dark-shadowed stairs.

"Whoa," Ahren said. "That's steep."

"There's a lot of them." Eadlyn found her voice enough to say that much. She cast her amazed eyes to Ahren. They turned from amazed to mischievous in the flashlight's light, and she said, "Ready?"

Ahren wasn't an adventurous kid, preferring to stay on the good side of his parents and read and write. But he also was close to his sister, and wanted to watch her to make sure she didn't get hurt. No guard was available to escort them, and someone had to ensure her safety. So he smiled. "Okay."

"We'll hear them when they call us back for the _Report_ ," Eadlyn assured him as she picked up her skirts and ate up the stairs in front of her. "Ugh, I wish Mom would let me wear pants on the _Report_."

"Mom would let you," Ahren said fairly, "but Silvia wouldn't."

Eadlyn sighed and nodded, resigned. Ahren, who wore pants, slowed down his pace a little so she wouldn't lose her breath, or worse, go too fast to keep up and trip and fall down the stairs and die. Worse-case scenario, but one that would had horrible consequences for him with his parents and for the royal family with the country.

The stairs soon came to an end and they shunted to the left, because the hallway's corner led that way. Ahren raised his hand over his head and _wayyy_ in front of him so that the light could show them the road ahead. No light switches on the walls presented themselves; they could tell they were down a story or two; the air grew cooler, the floor slanting.

Ahren was on the verge of being sensible and telling Eadlyn they had to go back to be on time, but then the light shone on a metal door. They stopped short and the twins looked at each other in the meager white light. "Is it locked?" Ahren asked.

Eadlyn's hand flew into action at the words; her fingers twisted the knob and it gave in just a little. She pressed her lips into a fine line and with firm movements, waltzed into the room.

"Eadlyn!" Ahren couldn't well leave her there, so he, though a little less bravely than she, went in after her.

* * *

Josie found Kile too easily. She'd skipped, blonde curls dancing, down to the little library in the same wing as the TV studio. She knew his haunts, mostly because earlier she'd hunted him down there and begged him to join her in a game. He'd snottily refused; how pleased was she that the tables had turned, so he _had_ to play. "Found you!" she teased, hitting him on the shoulder.

"Ow," he said, not looking up from his book.

Josie felt completely underwhelmed by his lackluster response and hit him again. "There! I found you! You can't get to home-base!"

"Ow! Stop hitting me, Josie!" Kile scowled.

Josie backed down for a second, but immediately cheered up. "Now I have to go find Ahren and Eadlyn!"

"Kile! Josie! Eadlyn! Ahren!" It was their mother calling for them. From the volume of her voice, she was near them. Kile shrunk back against the huge vase he'd been hiding against, but Josie hopped to her mother. "Mommy!"

"Josie, it's time for the _Report_ to start. We've got five minutes. Where's Kile?"

"There!" Josie betrayed her brother's presence with the point of her finger.

"Kile, let's go, honey," Marlee said.

But there was no response from behind the china vase and shrubs.

"Kile Carter Woodwork, come here this instant." Josie hid her face against her mother's shoulder. When she brought out the 'Mom' voice and the middle name, you better hide.

Kile skulked out, his book held by his side.

"It's time to go back." Marlee offered him a hand, but he didn't take it. He was nine-years-old, and therefore a big kid. "Where's Eadlyn and Ahren?"

Kile scowled. "Why do you think I know? I don't know!"

"Have you found them with hide-and-seek yet, Josie?" Marlee asked, tilting her head to look at her daughter's face.

Josie shook her head against her mother's shoulder. "I only found Kile. I didn't find Eady or Ahr."

"Let's call for them," Marlee suggested in a playful voice, as if to make it fun, but a few minutes' worth of searching proved her wrong; there wasn't _fun_ ; this was trouble.

Marlee found herself quickly in possession of her own two moody kids but not in possession of her best friend's twins, AKA the royal twins who were expected to be on the _Report_ already!

She hurried to the nearest guard-station. She didn't panic when she didn't find anyone there; she ignored the ransacked trunk and picked up a walkie talkie. "Carter! Avery! Somebody! This is Marlee, and I need help!" She waited, breathless, for some answer. It was radio silence until some fuzz and some "Marlee, this is Aspen. What's happening? Why aren't you in the _Report_ studio audience?"

How to calmly tell the captain of the guard that she'd somehow lost Eadlyn and Ahren? Marlee didn't know how, so her voice was hissy and quick: "Aspen, I can't find the twins! They're gone! They won't answer me!"

"Wait, Marlee, slow down. What happened?"

Marlee gasped enough breath in to say "Shhh, Josie, quiet down, honey," before she said firmly, "Aspen, Kile, Josie, Eadlyn, and Ahren were bored on the set of the _Report_ before it went live. I told them to play a game; they played hide-and-seek. I have Kile and Josie with me now, but we don't know where the twins are. They won't answer our calls; they're _lost_ , Aspen!"

Marlee could hear the sound of Aspen's rapid footsteps over the sound of Josie moaning of being hungry. "Where are you, Marlee?"

Marlee checked the outside of the door and pleaded, "Kile, stay here!" Into the walkie talkie, she said quickly, "We're on the third-floor guard station in the northern part of the western wing."

"I'll be right there." Marlee could hear the crackle of the radio as Aspen called for back-up. She gulped and quivered when she heard Carter's "Marlee! What's wrong?" She cleared her throat and whispered, "Can you come take the kids to the studio?" She then spent a minute despairing of telling her best friend in the entire world of her having lost her twins _right_ before a live, nationwide broadcast. _Brilliant._

* * *

"How come we've never been in this part of the palace before?" Ahren wondered aloud, amazed at the intricacy of their home's secret circulatory system.

Eadlyn shrugged. "Mom and Dad probably don't want us down here."

They'd entered a rectangular room; it was lined on two sides with twin-sized beds resembling those in the hospital wing; sets of drawers, lights attached to the fortified ceilings, and packages full of bottles 'decorated' the room. It was large, like it could accommodate quite a few people.

Ahren inspected a vent in the stone walls. "How do the airways work?" he wondered.

"Do they have a bathroom down here?" Eadlyn asked seriously. Ahren always wondered at the architecture; she wondered about the practicality in serving people.

"Are there are more doors?" Ahren said, flashing the light to where Eadlyn's voice was.

Eadlyn was already ahead of him. She hadn't discovered the light switches, but her hands had fumbled along the walls enough to locate a knob. She forced it open easily now under the light of her brother, but discovered only a dead-end of wooden shelves stocked with sheets, gauze, and other medicinal supplies. "Hmmm. I don't think there's any other way out of here besides that door," Eadlyn said.

"According to this map, about two-thirds down that staircase is a landing with another door." Ahren looked up from the map with unmistakable wishful mischief in his eyes mirroring his sister's. Without a word but affirming laughs, they bounded back down the stairs.

* * *

The theme song had played and Gavril was currently interesting the nationwide audience with little tastes of their hour's worth of Illéan updates and informative royals when America, jiggling Osten very un-queen-like on her knee, tugged her ear to her husband. Maxon, used to the gesture, noticed it immediately, and tilted an ear to her. She leaned a little out of her throne and whispered out of the corner of her mouth, "Where. Are. The. Twins?"

"The twins?" Maxon sat back in his throne in a daze and then cast a quick, worried gaze over the little thrones that trailed off of America's. Kaden, looking serious(ly bored), sighed and gave his dad a _Dadddd_ look. But otherwise, the other two thrones were empty of his dark- and blond-haired children. Maxon leaned back into his seat further and gulped. "I thought they were with you," he leaked out of the corner of his mouth.

America spoke through unmoved lips and gritted teeth. "Marlee was taking care of them. I thought they'd be back by now. You haven't seen them?"

"I'd been overwhelmed with pieces of news of nationwide importance. I was going to play with the kids after supper as penance for neglecting them all the day. I thought _you_ had them."

"Oh, for heaven's sake." As subtly and quickly as they could with the cameras focused on the advisers, Maxon and America swung their heads around. America saw nothing until she caught sight of an anxious Marlee on the opposite side of the set. One of her arms was dragged down by a scowl-faced son and her other was slumping from carrying her chubby adorable girl, but her face kept America's attention strictly on it. She was—what? America's face creased. Marlee wasn't asking her to _come to her now, while the_ Report _was rolling? NOW?!_

America ignored the startled looks of Silvia and the cameraman and tossed, practically _threw_ Osten into Maxon's laugh. The king was more affronted that the babe, who just yawned and looked up with interest at Daddy's face. Maxon stifled a yelp in his throat as America dashed from her throne to the BTS where the cameras and a worried Marlee stood. "Marlee, what's wrong?" America demanded.

"The kids were playing hide-and-seek and we can't find the twins!" Marlee said. "Aspen and Avery and some others are on it. Carter is too; he told me to come tell you."

America could hear the stifled groans and grunts of Maxon from _here_ ; she prayed the audience wasn't under such horrific indulgence. America focused on Marlee, who had tears in her eyes, and said, "Has the staff been notified?"

"Yes. The maids and the butlers and even the cooks and all the on-duty guards on it. Carter'll wake up the guards off-duty if he needs them, but I hope it's not as bad as that, America." Marlee's voice broke at the end.

Kile had relinquished of his own glad and free will his mother's hand, and that was the hand that America now took to hold and clasp. "We'll find them, Marlee. Don't worry," she said, even as worry tugged at her heart. Eadlyn and Ahren, her little babies—

The walkie talkie Marlee'd kept on her now buzzed with radio static and many of the cameramen gave Marlee _PLEASE!_ looks as Aspen said in a crackly voice, "We found a door to one of the safe rooms open. We think they might be in there."

America blanched and Marlee paled. Stepping back from the cameras and microphones, Marlee whispered back into the radio, "The guard station in the western wing, northern corridor."

Radio static—"What'd you say, Marlee? Please, speak up!"

Marlee spoke more strongly into the walkie talkie. "The guard station I was in; there was a ransacked trunk in it, all its stuff spilled around. That's where Carter says they keep maps of the safe rooms, right?"

Aspen was quiet a second, but he and America spoke in unison. "They found a hiding spot in a safe room."

"They must've taken a map," America said.

"And hopefully they're not lost. Men, go down! It's believed Princess Eadlyn and Prince Ahren are down those stairs, perhaps even in safe room 3-F. Go, find them, and bring them to the _Report_ studio! Go, go, go!" Aspen's yelled orders caused many heads to turn and stare at the embarrassed America and Marlee. A second passed, and America took the walkie talkie from Marlee. "Aspen, did you mean for the entire camera crew for the _Report_ to hear that last order?" Radio static. Then, "Um, no. Sorry."

America gave the crew a warm smile, just like the kind Queen Amberly would've given to calm down the masses. The fear struck in her heart was shown only to Marlee when she turned back to her best friend. "I need to go find them," she said.

"America, the _Report_." Marlee gestured to the show, to the advisers speaking, unaffected and stupid to the actions around them, to the nation, as Maxon squirmed in his seat. He couldn't say anything or hear anything, but was left to content himself with exhaling deeply and letting Osten suck his thumb.

America felt the twist between her royal duty and her maternal duty. And decided. "I need to see Eadlyn and Ahren. Now."

Marlee smiled and squeezed her hand. "Then let's find them." And leaving the moody Woodwork children in the hands of the stuttering Silvia, the two flounced out of the studio to safe room 3-F.

* * *

"We're not on the map anymore," Ahren, dazed, said matter-of-factly.

Eadlyn had taken command of the flashlight to allow her twin to spread forth their map to its fullest extent. They gazed down at it in the light that hurt their eyes, surrounded by darkness at all sides.

They'd been walking steadily up for ten minutes, but what long minutes, full of breaks for their short, tired legs and their breathlessness. They'd walked alongside the wall, seeking the door on the landing, but all three landings they'd come across showed no obvious way into another safe room. They'd concluded that unless the safe room had a scary secret door, the map was wrong, deathly wrong, or _they_ were wrong. By now Ahren had forgotten where they were on the map, both were tired, hungry, Eadlyn more grumpy than confused like Ahren was, and both aware, in the backs of their minds, of how _very_ late they were for their weekly appearance. They knew both Mom and Dad would give them disappointed looks and no lacking lectures when they returned—

Right now they were too concerned with the question of _would_ they return?

"I wish someone knew where we were," Eadlyn muttered.

"I wish this map was more elaborate," Ahren complained. "But we'll find our way out, right, Eadlyn?" His hopeful face shone even more than the white light.

Eadlyn sighed. "We have to, Ahren."

"We should just keep walking up, then," Ahren decided. His voice was hesitant, not nearly as commanding and sure as Dad's was when he made decisions. "It'll take us up to the right door, eventually."

"Are you sure?" Eadlyn knew that they hadn't taken any detours from the staircase they'd originally walked down, having taken it back from the rectangular room's door, but what if they'd unknowingly taken a wrong turn or something equally detrimental as that?

"Well, I was until you made me doubt myself." Ahren's tone held his mother's dryness as he rolled the map into a scroll and clenched it in a determined hand. "Let's just go up and if we get desperate, we'll call for help."

"They won't be able to hear us," Eadlyn said moodily, just to crush his hopeful spirit.

Ahren chose to ignore her, and just kept walking instead. And because she had no other choice (and she couldn't let her brother walk on in the dark), Eadlyn, flashlight in hand, hurried after him.

* * *

Marlee and America, panting, arrived at the scene of investigation. A few guards, walkie talkies crackling, stood outside the open door. "How many are down there?" America asked a guard, Markson. He'd been a head guard, until Aspen had demoted him, a gesture he'd taken graciously.

"Five," Markson said seriously. "Equipped with lanterns, blankets, and medicinal supplies should there prove reason for them."

Marlee put her hand to her heart. "You don't think either of them are injured down there, do you?" she gasped.

"One cannot be under-prepared," Markson said seriously.

America, for some reason or other, was more stout-hearted and sensible. "Are any of the airways blocked down there?" It'd been some years since the safe rooms had been in constant use, and America was aware that not taken care of, these rooms could be subject to some structural damages from being in the innards of the palace, where constant wear and tear from overhead, combined with pressure and weight, could spell disaster for them.

"Not to our knowledge, Your Majesty. Also, the door was found open, so there was, however how tiny, a constant stream of air down there."

America nodded, but then, in a moment of maternal spontaneity to get near her children, she made a mad dash to run down the stairs. Markson quickly stood in front of the doorway. "Your Highness, it isn't advisable for you to go down there."

"Are you trying to keep me from my children, Officer?" America asked calmly.

"He's just doing his job, America," Marlee pleaded.

America sighed and relented from a combination of that and the hard yet sincere look on Markson's face. "Fine." She then found a suitable job to keep her mind and feet busy that also used up her relentless supply of new-found energy: she paced up and down that hall with all her might, praying for her children and feeling sure she would get no rest until they relieved her by being in her arms.

* * *

"Do you hear that noise?" Ahren asked, looking up the stairs before them.

Eadlyn opened her ears. She'd been leaning against the wall of the stairs for a second; her grey dress was dirty from dust and her hair fully released from her up-do. She felt in want of supper, a bath, and a nice lying-in in the living room with her family. And her feet were _so_ tired. She felt like being sarcastic to Ahren's question, but then snapped her lips shut and listened with attentive ears as she heard it as well.

The twins met eyes and Eadlyn said, "Sounds like footsteps. And our names are being called."

"They're looking for us. They know where we are!" Ahren said. His good spirits returned and even Eadlyn couldn't suppress her relieved grin as they took a hold of their new-found strength and ran up to bump into the stomachs of their rescuers. "Eadlyn! Ahren!" They looked up to see the relieved, yet righteously angry face of Captain Leger. "Your mother is worried about you! And your father!"

"And we're late for the _Report_ ," Eadlyn said matter-of-factly, as if she'd been given this lecture before and knew what he'd say before he said it.

"And we're hungry. Let's hurry," Ahren suggested.

* * *

"America!" Marlee called after her friend, whose back was toward her and was some distance on the other side of the hall. A few minutes before Markson's walkie talkie had crackled to spew out Aspen's "We found them and are bringing them up!" In the meantime, America rung her hands and paced. Marlee stood up from her slumping against the wall to meet America, who marched up to her. "I heard their voices."

The two women were made the first by the guards to be at the open door as Aspen, four guards, and two tired children emerged from the safe room's staircase. Aspen and Hector, the two who'd carried the kids on their backs, let them down, and let America smother them in affectionate embraces. "Eadlyn! Ahren! What were you doing down there by yourselves?!" She managed to scold and reprimand them between kisses on their foreheads.

"Playing hide-and-seek," Ahren explained.

"We knew Josie would never find us down _there_ ," Eadlyn added.

America sighed. "I know I should have told you more about the safe rooms, but they're secluded from the rest of the palace. You _cannot_ go in there anymore, because no one is going to look for you there. There are plenty of other rooms for hide-and-seek."

"But Josie _knows_ all of those," Eadlyn pointed out.

That just made America laugh. "Your father and I are going to talk to you both later. But come on. Let's hurry to get into the _Report_ before they're done and start a nationwide gossip about us." She clasped her twins' dirty hands and smiled at Aspen. "Thanks for finding them, Aspen."

He nodded and said, "Of course, Ames," and Marlee had to run to keep up with the determined queen and her two new-found twins to the TV studio.

* * *

They arrived on with dust on their scraped heels to be hurried into their thrones. Maxon was being interviewed by Gavril at such a vantage point as to allow no one to see half the scurrying royal family, and what Maxon saw of them, he didn't betray to his audience. However, once the king had finished, a view of the entire royal family had passed into viewing, and Gavril had bid the audience of Illéa goodnight, signing them off, Maxon pounced upon his kids. Like America, he was torn between utterly merciless reprimanding and affectionate embraces with warm kisses. "What made you do such a thing? If you'd gotten lost for longer—! If Miss Marlee hadn't seen that opened door— . . . hide and seek! Hide and—and s-s- _seek_!" At the end, all he could stutter as he knelt on bended knees before his justly repenting son and somber daughter, as he brushed stray hairs out of their eyes, "I can't lose either of you two. Do you understand how important you are to me?"

Eadlyn looked into the scared eyes of her young father and nodded. "I do, Daddy."

"Yes, so do I, Dad," Ahren affirmed.

Maxon smiled and pressing his hands against the backs of his kids' mussed up hair, drew them in for another hug. Then he stood up, smiled especially down at them to let them both know all was forgiven, and offered him his hands, which they gladly took. They three walked up to America, holding Osten on her hip and Kaden by the hand, and Marlee, who, relieved, had her own brood in tow. Josie pouted on her mother's shoulder; clearly _she_ was done with her day of pestering the next generation of royals.

"Let's go have supper," Maxon suggested.

"Carter will meet us there," Marlee said.

"I'm hungry," Kaden said in his squeaky voice.

"Me too!" said Kile, Eadlyn, and Ahren all at once.

"Then to the dining room we shall go. Should I close my eyes and count?" Maxon said, looking from one to the other.

"No. We're too hungry to play anymore, Dad," Ahren informed him, making America, Marlee, and Maxon laugh too hard like the adults they were as they walked out of the studio, bypassing Silvia and her pursed lips, to the dining room. Kile and Eadlyn and Ahren, though the former not always on the best terms with the latter two, all exchanged a mutual look. _What was so funny?_ and _Why did our parents get so worried?_

 **Thanks for reading!**


End file.
